


Killing Me

by Try2CatchMe



Series: Sanctuary 'verse [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 09:00:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Try2CatchMe/pseuds/Try2CatchMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“On the one hand, Adam felt bad using a half-healed angel as a shield, but on the other hand Castiel was starting to come forward and while it didn't look like he had a Molotov with him, Adam wasn't going to be taking any chances on that front.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Killing Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so, so sorry.

Adam supposed, in a distant sort of way, that he should be thankful his brothers didn't just kick down the door. Doors were ridiculously expensive, after all, and who knew what sort of damage there could have been to the frame? Really, it was a good thing they had an angel with them who could unlock and blast the door open with appropriate drama without causing it any harm.

Really.

He also supposed he was lucky to have made it to the other side of the coffee table before said door-blasting occurred. It would have sucked taking a door to the face.

Mostly though? Mostly he was pissed.

"What do you want from me?!" He shouted, and at some point his neighbors were going to have to call the cops, this was getting ridiculous, "Get the hell out of my house!"

"Adam, calm down," Sam advanced first, they were probably hoping his eyebrows of sympathy would gain them a few points, it was like they'd forgotten he was built like a Coke machine, "We just-"

Adam didn't exactly get to figure out what they just because Samandriel was suddenly in front of him, facing Sam and using one arm to make sure Adam stayed behind him.

On the one hand, Adam felt bad using a half-healed angel as a shield, but on the other hand Castiel was starting to come forward and while it didn't _look_ like he had a Molotov with him, Adam wasn't going to be taking any chances on that front.

And _holy crap_ where did Samandriel get that massive silver blade from?!

The angel standing in front of him did not take his eyes off of Castiel, raising his blade to be able to easily attack with one hand and pushing Adam further behind him with the other.

"Samandriel." Castiel said in quiet acknowledgment, stepping closer to his fellow angel, face crumpled in an all-too-human expression that spoke of grief and guilt and loss. He halted when the blade lifted another inch.

"Who are you?" Samandriel asked and his voice was as soft as ever, but it was also slow and dangerous and clearly, _clearly_ a threat. His head twitched toward Dean, "He said Castiel was dead, trapped in Purgatory."

Dean glanced between the two angels, but did not, Adam couldn't help but notice, ever take his hand off the gun tucked into his belt, "Yeah, well, I was wrong."

The blade gave a single, barely noticeable tremor before Samandriel firmed his grip and spoke again, "If you are truly Castiel, then prove it."

The older angel took another step forward, now heedless of the blade entirely, "When you were first learning to fly, you fell. Inias caught you before you hit the ground, but you were so frightened you refused to try again until we both promised to fly with you. After you learned, we could rarely convince you to land."

Samandriel was trembling clearly now. Castiel took one more step.

"Brother, I owe you an apolo-"

The blade was big enough that Adam really thought it should have made a louder sound when it hit the floor, but it just landed unassumingly on the carpet when Samandriel dropped it in favor of launching himself at Castiel and throwing his arms around his fellow angel's neck, burying his face in his shoulder.

"You're alive. You're alive, brother," Samandriel whispered and was his voice catching? "Castiel, we were so worried."

Castiel was as responsive as a particularly anti-social brick for about three seconds before he seemed to get with the program and hug Samandriel back haltingly, like he'd never done it before. He looked stunned until his hands made contact with his younger brother's back, at which point his gaze sharpened frighteningly.

"We need to talk."

And then they both vanished with a sound like wings.

Which was great for them and their brotherly reunion and everything, but it left Adam alone with _his_ brothers and _they_ had _guns_.

He made a mental note to buy a gun soon, because he had the worrying feeling he'd probably eventually need to use one.

There were a few seconds of the most awkward silence ever to exist, made more awkward by the static sound in the background of a record that had ended while the player had not yet been turned off.

Sam spoke first, his forehead a mass of I-feel-your-pain wrinkles, "Adam-"

"Don't," Adam snarled, "Do not even start with me right now, Sam."

Dean stepped forward then, "So, what, Baby Angel 2.0 hauled your ass out of the Cage?"

Somewhere under the budding rage, Adam remembered that he'd favored Dean over Sam the one time they'd met before because he cut through all the bullshit Sam liked to 'soften' the truth with, "Something like that."

"How'd he manage that?"

Dean's tone wasn't right, something was wrong here. Adam shifted his weight to run if he needed to, "Hell if I know."

Shaking his head, Dean gave a particularly bitter smile, "Sorry kid, I ain't buyin' it. You spent, what, six hundred years downstairs and you're still walking and talking? Pull the other one."

Adam gritted his teeth and, seeing Sam's wince, made an educated guess. "I'm guessing Wally World over there didn't come out quite right, did he?" This time they both winced.

God, their lives. Was there some kind of quota of shit the universe had to unleash on you if you had Winchester blood? Multiple deaths, check. At least one trip to Hell, check. Be an archangelic vessel, check. Get rescued from He-

"Wait, you got yanked out too." Adam focused on Dean. Sam had too, but his story was a little more complicated considering he came out in two parts and had to be spliced together by Death himself. Dean's was a lot closer to Adam's own. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

The eldest Winchester looked like he thought Adam might have brain damage for a moment before recognition dawned. Then his eyes narrowed, "You first."

Adam was already pulling his shirt over his head. He hadn't bothered to replace the bandages after his shower at Garth's (and, ugh, he really needed to take another one now that the water was back on), so the angry red burns on his side and forearm were clear to see.

Sam was staring. Dean merely nodded and shrugged out of his jacket and over shirt to roll up his shirtsleeve. His scar was old and faded, but still easily seen. It seemed to have a slight sheen to it, but only when Adam looked at it out the corner of his eye.

"Satisfied?" He asked, tugging his shirt back over his head.

"Not really."

"Too bad. I'm sure your buddy Garth told you he already tested me." Adam went over to the turntable and turned it off, slipping the record back into its sleeve and properly putting away the needle, just to have something to do with his hands.

"You remember anything?" Sam asked, almost tentatively, like he expected Adam to explode.

"Not if I can help it," He replied honestly. All this talk of it had a pressure building at the back of his mind. He kept having to shove it back, but it was harder than before.

Dean rubbed at his forehead, "Alright, well, we've got to get you back to Garth."

" _What_? Why?"

"Adam," Sam was doing that thing where he thought if he called Adam by name enough, he'd actually listen, "You came back from Hell and you're a Winchester. If that wasn't enough to attract all kinds of unwanted attention, we're kind of in the middle of screwing over the King of Hell at the moment and the second he hears about you, he'll coming for you."

"Screw you, I'm not a Winchester!" The pressure in Adam's head was getting worse, "And I'm not letting this yank me away from my home again! I have family, assholes, I'm lucky they even want to talk to me, I'm not going to disappear on them _again_!"

"You don't really have much of a _choice_ , kid." Dean fired back.

Adam saw red, "There's _always_ a choice, there's always an alternative! You of all people should know that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Samandriel told me everything you did. You fought and tried really hard to die for free will, but when it comes to you and the people around you, the people you claimed you were fighting _for_ , suddenly it doesn't apply!" Dean twitched like he was going to commit violence, but Adam was nowhere near done yet, "The world is not divided into civilians and hunters and things you can shoot, Dean, and just knowing about the supernatural isn't going to turn me into a hunter _or_ a coward _or_ stop me from trying to have a life. I'm not going to play by the rules you force on every other person you meet so you can just take your little speech about choice and shove it, you hypocritical ass."

Adam was half expecting it when Dean grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him against the wall.

What he _wasn't_ expecting was the sudden flare of panic.

Dean was strong and _heavy_ and he was pinning Adam to the wall and he couldn't get away and he couldn't _breathe_ and-

And the pressure in his head exploded.


End file.
